Special assignment
by EmilieEvans
Summary: Charlie got his security clearance back, but the circumstances of that are still unclear. Who might have influenced the ADIC's decision and what impact it'll have on Charlie? A bit of an AU, parallel to most of the fifth season. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: NUMB3RS doesn't belong to me, I'm just having fun with those characters. I own nothing :(_

* * *

**SPECIAL ASSIGNMENT**

**Chapter one: The man behind the curtain**

**

* * *

  
**

The place was fairly crowded, given the early hours. Though it was 5 a.m. almost all the tables were occupied, some by lone drunk man, some by groups of shady characters doing their equally shade business. Then there was a corner where a few tables were full of empty coffee cups, papers and laptops. If you knew enough about the society flowing through that pub, you might realize that those people were ones of the most resourceful characters in the area. And if you knew how to ask, you could make them arrange almost anything for you. If you had money, of course.

One of them, skimpy, small person with bandana on his head and quite long, straight brown hair emerging from under this piece of cloth, looked as if he was engrossed in his work on the laptop. In reality, he was systematically scanning all the place, searching for somebody. He's been doing it for a few months now, and although he had done some smaller jobs for a few guys, who paid him for pulling off some petty thefts and cons, he was waiting for them to appear and hire him.

That they'll hire him, he was certain. He produced himself quite an opinion, based on those thefts he pulled off, and he faked some real good scams in the Net: any hacker could say that a man who used the nickname Chunkie was a solid, bright and eager to get a lot of money.

In the other words: perfect conman.

While he sat there, he began to recall all the events that led him to this place and this situation.

* * *

"Professor Eppes?"

He was just entering his office at CalSci, when he heard someone calling his name. He stopped to find out, who was that and was startled to see one of the NSA agents, who he worked with a while ago.

"Agent Morrison, it's a pleasure to see you," Charlie extended his hand in invitation.

"Likewise, Professor. Can I ask for a minute of your time?"

"Most certainly. Let's go inside."

They entered the office. Charlie couldn't help but wonder what that was about. It was only few hours ago that he got his security clearance back. He was sure that NSA was notified about that, but didn't expected them to act in such a hurry.

"Please sit down," Charlie indicated the chair in front of the desk as he sat on the other side. "How can I help you?"

"It's quite a complicated matter Professor, not to mention, confidential. I have to ask you to keep this conversation in secret… Not one person can know about that,"

"I understand, Agent. I've been through this before." He couldn't understand why Agent Morrison was making such a big fuss about that. "Has something changed?"

"Yes and no, Professor." Agent smiled, but there was no smile in his eyes. "I'm here representing AD Robert Tompkins himself. He's proposing you an assistance in one of our operations, which is so confidential, I don't know all the parts of it, despite the fact, I'm actually leading it."

"Operation involving what?" Charlie demanded.

"I can't really tell you all the details, until you agree to participate, at least not until Director Tompkins will agree to it. All you can know at this moment is that it involves the group hacking into bank accounts. And there's something else." Agent looked uneasy.

"There's always a catch, Agent. What is it this time?"Charlie tried to be cautious and tried to gather as much information as he could, but he couldn't help himself, he wanted to go into action, after those few weeks of stagnation. Losing his security clearance made it clear to him: he wanted to do good on this world, and he knew how to do it. So, the moment, he was offered a chance, he was eager to take it.

"Field work."

Agent Morrison heaved a sigh, while Charlie stared at him. He didn't understand. What kind of field work?

"Excuse me? Could you elaborate?"

"Trick is, I can't tell you much. But that is all you are supposed to know for now, the rest you will be informed about from Director himself…"

Charlie settled to listen. But deep down he realized that he already made his decision. He wanted to act.

* * *

The man in the corner almost made a movement as if he wanted to stand up, when he saw the people he's been waiting for. Luckily he managed to contain himself, and sat still.

The group of people – there were four of them – sat down by the table near the exit and talked quietly. None of them looked in his direction and they shown no intention to make any contact with him.

So he waited. He was good at it.

* * *

Charlie felt fairly nervous when he entered the office.

"Sir? You wanted to see me."

Robert Tompkins smiled in greeting.

"It's Bob, don't you remember? And yes, I wanted to see you. Please, sit down."

"It's been a while, Bob… Many things changed." Charlie noted, while sitting down.

"Right you are, Charlie. We haven't worked together for a while… And then this problem of yours came up…" Bob's eyes bore into Charlie's. "You do realize, Charlie, that all this affair with you carelessly loosing your clearance could have quite bad ramifications?"

"I do realize that. At least for me and for my brother."Charlie shook his head. "But I don't understand where are you going with it."

"You are an exceptional mind, Charles, and I know you know it. It would be really a shame to waste all the chances to use you brilliance for the good of us all."

"Wait a second." Charlie raised his hand. "Are you saying that you had your hand in my getting my clearance back?"

"Exceptional mind, as I said." Bob smiled. "I had a few talks with guys at ADIC and reminded them of a few favors they owed me."

"So I guess I owe you a favor now, don't I?" Charlie nodded his head, it made sense to him now. "How about Don, then? I don't think you had any reasons to press that issue…"

"Actually it was just him, who mined his own fate. You might want to listen to that." Bob lifted up a dictaphone and pressed 'play'.

"_Charlie Eppes is a vital part of the FBI, and as a Supervisor of the Los Angeles Violent Crime Squad, it is my belief that I cannot perform my duties without him…"_

Charlie was shocked.

"Was that…"

"Yes, that was your brother. And I guess they thought: if you want one Eppes, you need the other one, too."

"Yep, we're 'two in one' kind of product."

Bob chuckled.

"Not this time, though, Charlie. Now you're on your own." Bob stopped talking as he saw Charlie lifting his hand again, politely interrupting him.

"So, the way I see it, Bob, you pulled some strings, and even now, you're softening me up," Charlie looked into his eyes. "All that for a reason. You really need me on that case of yours."

Bob's expression changed to grave, but he couldn't hide the appreciation in his eyes.

"You're right, Charlie, I need your help. In fact you're one of a few people in the world who can help us out. I trust Agent Morrison has briefed you?"

"He had, although it was really brief." Charlie smiled a little."I still don't see what is the problem with that case. I'm also trying to guess why you have undergone all those troubles just to get me on this case."

"Let's think…" Bob stopped for a moment, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. "I need a mathematician, although a good hacker would have done the job. Then I need someone with an indisputable loyalty, which you are, and I'm saying it after taking into the consideration you sending those info to Pakistan. I know you did it to help a fellow scientist and people in need. Next thing, I need someone who knows quite a bit about the way we roll, who knows how an Agent is supposed to work, but who doesn't have some habits, that could expose him as someone working for us or the FBI…" Bob stopped again. "In need you, Charlie. I need a genius, who may be able to infiltrate a group of hackers, who are a possible threat to national security."

"Infiltrate…" Charlie was stunned. All his work for NSA and FBI was strictly a 'consultant thing'. He didn't work undercover, he barely could defense himself, the only thing he was good at, was shooting, but this have been at the paper targets. "You mean… As a spy?"

"Maybe a mole is a better word." Bob sighed. "I know, it's a lot to ask… But trust me, you're the only person who could pull it off. Of course you would need a little training in basic defense and some acting skills, but it should come to you quickly."

For a second, Charlie was sure that Bob was kidding. Defense? Him? Did he know about his failure at the FBI training course? But Bob's expression hasn't changed.

"You'll do fine, Charlie. I'm sure about it."

Charlie understood now, that he had no real choice. Of course he could still say 'no' and walk away. But was it the best move? He knew Bob will make everything to be sure of his safety and that the training will guarantee him some level of protection from the criminals. He also knew that he was smart enough to manage to do it.

Then something hit him.

"But is it legal…? I mean, I'm just a consultant, how can I be a mole in some super secret action?"

Bob smiled a little.

"Not that I'm trying to hold something over your head, but you stretched the FBI policy more than once not so long time ago. And you did it for the best of reasons, remember?"

Bob searched a little through his cabinet and found a little tape, which he put into the Dictaphone. Again, he pressed 'play'. But this time Charlie recognized that conservation, although he had no idea how Bob got his hands on a recording of that situation.

"…_McGowan can go to hell if he doesn't get that."_

"_Look, you don't understand the politics here."_

"_I'm beginning to. You have a guy who kidnapped and murdered and facilitated rape. He's smart and he's going to do it again. If it were you, would you let the rules get in the way of stopping him?"_

"_Let's do it."_

Bob pressed 'stop' and looked at Charlie in silence. The mathematician closed his eyes for a second thinking it through. Wasn't he the one who wanted action? He looked at Bob, the true man behind the curtain, who orchestrated everything in order for him to join this operation.

"When do I start?"

* * *

It was about 6:30 a.m. The man in the corner was the last one of the 'resourceful' ones still sitting in the bar. It was high time for him to return to his daily responsibilities, so he decided to call it a day. Just in this moment one of the guys he's been waiting for, got up and headed to him. It was brawny, big man with bald head.

"I hear you can do some stuff." His voice matched his posture. It was deep and monosyllabic. It also had some funny accent to it.

"I make favors for friends." The man replied calmly, not even raising his head.

Five one-hundred dollar bills landed on the table.

"That's just for beginning."

Charlie Eppes smiled a little, shifted and raised his eyes to meet the eyes of the hulky man.

"How can I help you… My friend?"

_Game's on._

_

* * *

A/N: This idea has been in my head fora long time, so I had to write it down, but don't worry, I won't abandon "Broken innocence". I'll try to update both of these stories as frequently as I can._

_Anyways, I hope you liked it and got hooked on this story. I quite like this storyline I came up with_._ I was trying to make Charlie do some more "Don" stuff, but without making him heroic and completely OOC. I hope I succedeed at this.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine... That's a shame._

_A/N: Finally, the second chapter! Hope you'll like it :D  
_

* * *

**SPECIAL ASSIGNMENT**

**Chapter two: Wrestling with yourself**

* * *

„You're Chunkie, yes?" The massive man asked him, sitting on the chair. The unfortunate piece of furniture nearly broke under the weight.

"That's what my friends call me." Charlie replied, taking money in his hands. He smiled a little. "This is enough for me to accept you as my friend. How do I call you? And what do you got for me?"

"Mike." The man seemed to think very hard. Charlie got the distinct impression that Mike wasn't very bright and had some troubles with speaking in English. "I have job for you."

"Well, can you tell me about it?" It was quite funny to observe the hulky man. Mike clearly didn't know what to say and not reveal the most important things. Finally it seemed that he made his decision.

"You will talk to boss about it." It wasn't question. It was clearly an order, but Charlie wasn't moved by that.

"It depends on the kind of job, Mike… As well as the kind of money." He was calm and methodical. He knew that he needed to be close to that mysterious 'boss', but he mustn't seem too eager about that. A lot depended on this.

"Big money… Good job. Boss will tell more."

"Okay, Mike. When do I meet him?" Charlie asked casually.

"Tomorrow, you be here. I show you where." Mike must have memorized that information, Charlie realized. It was the first time when he spoke with absolute certainty.

"Very well. I'll be here, as always." The mathematician smiled and bowed his head a little. The hulky man left without another word, sitting back at his previous place, with his companions. Charlie noticed that the almost immediately started talking with hushed voices, but it didn't seem to be in English.

Although he decided earlier he wanted to leave, he stayed a few minutes more. He didn't want to make an impression that the talk with the representative of the mysterious 'boss' was all he wanted and what he was waiting for. After about fifteen minutes he started to casually gather his things and walked out of the bar.

While he was passing near the table where Mike and his buddies were still sitting, he managed to hear some of their talk, but, as he suspected earlier, the were talking in some other language. Knowing, what he was dealing with, Charlie suspected it was Russian. His suspicions were confirmed as he heard one of the guys, tall and skinny man talk to the man Charlie knew as Mike.

He called him 'Mikhail'.

Charlie smiled to himself smugly. Everything went perfect.

Of course it wasn't so nice at the beginning…

* * *

They were still wrestling with the Kevin Oliver case – the fist one that Charlie could work on rightfully, since he lost his security clearance – and Don asked him for help with connecting the kid to any Eastern European syndicate. Charlie was more then eager to help and promised Don to get on it as fast as possible. When he was leaving the living room, something made him stop for a while and he overheard the short exchange between Don and Dad.

"So, I guess you must feel good, FBI ruling in your favor."

"Yeah, I wish I knew why."

"You're overthinking it. You won, be happy."

Charlie froze, but then resumed his walking and when he entered the garage, he was almost running.

What was he thinking? How could he kept that hidden from everyone around him, especially Don, who seemed to be a bit conspicuous about the way they both won with the FBI? It was going to be too hard.

Charlie walked up to the blackboard, trying to focus on belief propagation and all the clues that might help him discover Oliver's connections, but he couldn't think straight.

And what if Don will discover that Charlie's been lying to him about working to NSA? It wasn't consulting now, it was hard and dangerous field work, that may put him and his loved ones in danger…

Charlie felt a bit sick. He never actually thought of that when he accepted Bob's offer. He didn't took time to think that through, really. He acted recklessly and there was no turning back. He couldn't call Bob now and tell him, he now decided not to take part in this operation. Too much depended on his abilities.

Charlie sat heavily on the couch, his unseeing eyes fixed on the blackboard. He analyzed everything, every word, every piece of information he got from Bob and came up with unarguable result: he had no other choice than to accept the offer.

Charlie stood up, griping the chalk in his hand. He held it so hard that it almost shattered to dust.

Next time he'll see Bob or someone else connected to the case, he'll ask them for a protection for his loved ones. He suspected he deserved that much.

And as for Don... He'll deal with it when it'll happen. It makes no sense to borrow trouble. He's got enough on his plate right now.

Making up his mind cleared him off the unwanted thoughts. He could finally work on the case.

Up until now he didn't realized how much he actually missed that.

* * *

Quick visit at home, showing up to Dad, pretending that he just came from Amita's just to take some forgotten papers he needed for class, checking up on his voicemail and the presence of an agent, constantly watching over Alan – and Charlie was on his way to campus. He had some early classes and then a few spare hours, so he could catch a nap in his office and then work some more on one of Don's cases.

He was really thankful to Amita, who has been thoughtful enough to get him a cup of coffee as soon as he entered his office.

"Thank you and hi." He smiled, kissing her. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd be totally lost, Charlie." She returned the kiss. "How'd it go?"

"Good, I had some success today." Charlie looked apologetically at her. She nodded her head, understanding that he couldn't share more with her.

Amita was actually the only person Charlie trusted enough to share some information about his assignment. She didn't know everything, she didn't even know what exactly was Charlie doing. But she discovered very early Charlie's disappearances, while the others didn't, which was quite understandable. Larry wouldn't notice something suspicious even if it was straight under his nose, and as for others, Charlie pretended that he spent time with Amita or needed to do something work-related. Of course that cover was quickly blown up by his girlfriend who could without problems prove that any of this excuses was untrue.

That's why Charlie explained to her his working with the NSA and asked her to keep it in secret. He knew he could trust her and she proved to him that his faith in her wasn't misplaced.

_Of course_, Charlie mused, holding her close to him and kissing before parting and going to their respective classes, _she deserved that much after my edgy behavior towards her._

Yeah, the first weeks of his work for the NSA weren't a good ones. To say the truth, they were catastrophic.

* * *

It was hard enough to try and 'climb back on the horse' as he put it, while explaining himself to Amita and Larry, during the Scan Man case. He was really on edge during this case and only contact with Emerson gave him some sense of equilibrium, which he needed since his training started.

It began directly after his decision to work with NSA. Ha quite quickly got from 'awful' to 'acceptable', in acting and disguising his personality as his trainer, Agent Ladden put it, but the martial arts training was a total disaster. He couldn't defend himself properly, he just wasn't able to understand what he's supposed to do. Which, in turn, caused him to lose his patience and be on the edge at all times.

Fortunately his acting classes allowed him to hide most of his frustrations from his friends and family, but he couldn't contain some of his outbursts, which made his contact with people around him a bit uneasy.

The true breaking point, both for the case and for Charlie's attitude, was that very dangerous situation he and David got themselves into, while escorting Emerson to his house. Two people ambushed them and wanted to abduct Emerson, while killing all the witnesses. Charlie was actually forced to shoot in the general direction of a man and that made him realize something.

He wasn't totally incapable of defending himself. There were some things that he was quite good at: for example, shooting. And although he may never be really good at self-defense, he could improve at that.

That change of attitude was a most successful turn: his trainer was never so glad to see the improvements in his student as he saw Charlie in their next training session. Not to mention that Charlie's newly discovered belief in his abilities made it possible for him to make up with everyone.

Everyone, including Amita.

* * *

Napping in his office began to be Charlie's almost daily routine. Even if he wasn't spending all the night in the bar, waiting for Russians to contact him, he usually spend his nights working on the cases or was busy doing other things. Like being with Amita.

As soon as Charlie woke up from his nap, he wrote quickly a note about what happened this night, then encoded it and wrote the final version on a scrap of paper. Then he burned the original over the sink and headed to the campus' cafeteria to grab some lunch. On the way there, he met the man who officially was a visiting professor from some other country. Casually, while greeting, Charlie slid the encrypted message to the man's hand. Agent Faulkner winked at him and walked away.

Smiling, he went through the campus, answering the students' greetings.

Life was good.

* * *

_A/N: So, how was it? Let me know, you know how!_

_Oh, and... Happy New Year everyone! Hope it'll be good for all of you.  
_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: Someday maybe I'll gain some rights... But nah, it's not this day._

* * *

**SPECIAL ASSIGNMENT**

**Chapter three: Ruskie business**

**

* * *

  
**

_Another evening spent on waiting_, Charlie thought, raising a cup of coffee, while scanning the pub in search of his new "friend". It was two a.m. already, and Mike still hasn't shown up to lead him to his boss, as he promised. Maybe something happened? Maybe his cover was blown up? No, it was impossible. There was no possible links to his real identity, and there was no way someone could get a hold of highly classified files that connected him with the NSA. As for his acknowledged connection with the FBI… He was disguised well enough. He suspected only a few people on the world, those who knew him the best, would recognize him: he wore a wig of straight, mouse-brown hair, colored lenses, which made his pupils a few shades lighter, and he wore glasses. His clothing was simple, he wore worn jeans, baggy sweatshirts and used to wear bandanas. Although that last one changed on the course of the weeks he spent waiting for the Russians to show up. The bandana wasn't always on his head now.

When he noticed Mike, who walked up to him, alongside with other man, tall and skinny, he smiled as he remembered his discussions with Agent Ladden who was responsible for his disguise.

* * *

"… I can understand everything, I even agreed to those awful glasses, but I will not wear a wig!"

"Be reasonable, professor, do you really want to be recognized? Those hair of yours are pretty damn a straight give-away! You have a death wish?"

"No, but…" Charlie ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "How do you imagine we do that? Even if I wore a wig, I still have hair underneath. Wouldn't that look suspicious?"

"We can work something out… Like… Maybe you'll wear a bandana? It can conceal you hair and it'll be another piece of clothing that's completely unrelated to your real self…"

"You think if everything, don't you, Ladden?" Charlie sighed again. "Okay, I agree to that. But are you sure there are no other choices?"

"Well, we could have a few others…" Ladden smirked, as if he thought of something funny. "But I understand you're quite fond of this hair of yours… You wouldn't think of cutting them, would you?"

Charlie raised his head sharply.

"What? No way!"

Ladden laughed at this, but not nearly as much as he had few weeks later, when Charlie showed up with his new haircut…

* * *

_Cutting his hair was quite a drastic decision, but it paid off_, Charlie thought as he was almost dragged to the car, Mike, sitting beside him, his tall companion in the front. All of them were strangely quiet, even the greeting was reduced to the minimum. But it didn't seemed suspicious, at least for Charlie. He tried to look relaxed, but not too much. It would be not natural, Charlie remembered himself. He carefully controlled his face, to show only a bit of the nervousness he felt. Then he looked up and noticed that the driver was looking at him through the rear-view mirror, seemingly studying his expression. Charlie nodded stiffly in greeting and then looked outside the window.

_Try to melt in. Don't stand out. Be useful, nice and try to make friends but not much. Let them know about your great abilities with computers, climb up steadily, gain their trust, but don't make an impression you're trying to achieve something. You're working with them for money, you got it?_

He repeated all those instructions in his head during this ride. It wasn't far, it seemed they didn't leave L.A. but Charlie felt as if they were riding for hours. When they stopped in front of some kind of building, he scanned it carefully and tried to guess what it was. Firehouse, maybe? Or warehouse?

When they stepped in, the tall man in front of him, Mike behind, the driver stayed in the car, the light almost blinded him, and it took a few seconds for eyes to adjust.

_Smart move_, Charlie admired, _having chance to observe me while I'm unable. Additionally, I'm just on the spotlight, they want me to feel uneasy… Well, I'm gonna let them have it. They'll think they're in control…_

Charlie fought down a smirk which began its' work to his face and studied his expression according to the situation: a bit of fright, uncertainty, anger and curiosity. That should work. He blinked as if trying to be still fighting with the excess of the light and looked around. He noticed he was in a big hall, it looked like it was a firehouse sometime, and it was mostly dark. The only bright places were the entrance, where he was, and something that looked like bureau, built in the hall. He could see a few people in there, who seemed to mind their own business, but which almost certainly were following his every step.

Charlie followed Mike and tried to take in as much as he could. The look of the firehouse, the faces of the people who now waited for him…

Mike stepped into the bureau and said something that Charlie couldn't understand. One of the people who were there nodded his head and the rest of them left through the other doors. It seemed there were other rooms in there, Charlie noted.

Then, there were five of them left, he counted. Mike, the tall man, the man who nodded, the other, rather thin and shy boy and him. Only then, his host raised from his chair and extended a hand, talking in rather good English, the trace of accent similiar to Mike's still present.

"Welcome, Chunky. We're honored to have you on board. My name is Yuri. Please, have a seat."

Charlie shook his hand and smiled slightly. He tried to make this shake unsure, and let his hand slip out almost immediately after the shake. He was almost sure that Yuri was the kind of man who judged people by their handshakes, and his suspicion was confirmed when the Russian smiled almost triumphantly. Charlie sat down on the indicated chair, which was seemingly lower then Yuri's chair. _So that's how you're gonna play, huh? Showing me where my place is and keeping me here?_ Charlie mused, smiling politely.

"Mike here mentioned that you may have some business with me, Mr. Yuri." He began. "I was wondering, what that might be."

"Straightforward." Yuri chuckled, eyeing him. "I like that kind of people. Tell me, Chunky… What do you know about different kinds of security in American banks?"

"To tell the truth, I know almost everything." Charlie answered. And he was talking truthfully.

* * *

"… We do realize now that they have anti-American intentions, but we're still not sure what exactly their goal is. They've been trying to intercept and modify some of the not significant bank's security systems, which already paid off."

"How much did they get?" Charlie asked. Bob has been filling him in for the last hour and it seemed they were getting to the point.

"Almost three millions, but it's obvious that it's meant just for their expenses… High-tech, fake I.D. and so on."

"Okay, I get this. But how do you know they're pulling off something so big? The NSA wouldn't be interested in even greatest heist, right?"

"Yeah…" Bob sighed and looked at Charlie warningly. "This is highly classified, Charlie. No one can hear about this, you get it?"

"It was unnecessary, Bob. I told you I'll work with you and that means I'll follow your rules. And I know them all by heart." Charlie's hard stare almost matched Bob's.

"Good." The older man opened the drawer in his desk and pulled out some files. "A few months ago, the FBI started to keep an eye on the group of seemingly ordinary immigrants from Eastern Europe. They were legal and all, but a few of mysterious cases seemed to be somehow connected with them. Then they stumbled upon this." He handed Charlie the piece of paper filled with few rows of numbers and letters, without any sense or pattern. "And asked us for help. Does this look familiar?"

Charlie looked up at Bob, whose eyebrows were raised in amusement. Then he looked back at paper.

"It's a code, obviously. And I've seen this kind of grouping of letters and numbers…" He trailed off, remembering something. "It's nearly identical with the one I broke for you six years ago, Bob."

"That is right. And thanks to your algorithm, we could break it for the FBI in a few hours. And, almost immediately, the FBI was kindly requested to remove themselves from this case."

They both chuckled.

"What was it?" Charlie was really curious.

"Unfortunately, I can't show you the decoding, but I can tell you about it's content. As you remember, the code you've been working on six years ago was sent from Russia and this message was about possible attack by the Russian extremists on American government. This code is similar… So we connected the dots. The common link is man called Vasil Rodajew." He stopped pointedly.

Charlie's blood ran cold. He knew little of the man, but what he knew could shock most of the bravest people. Rodajew was known for his brutality and ruthlessness. He had his hand in most of the illegal businesses that went in Russia. The rumor was that he was a good friend of some high officials, and that he could bribe or threaten many of them. And he was connected to this case six years ago. Charlie and many other agents at the NSA suspected that he was the main force behind all this , but there were no evidence and all the witnesses mysteriously kept on disappearing, only to turn out to be dead.

"I understand. So you think that he has a plan worked out and he's trying to strike again?" Charlie summed up.

"Yes. And this is the other reason you're working this case. You know most about Rodajew than any of my agents. You know his moves he did in his past, so you may predict what moves he'll do in the future. Well… he's currently interested in bank security."

"I know something about that." Charlie interjected politely.

"That's good. So I'll make sure you know everything about it." Bob stated, smiling at him.

Charlie smiled back. _There is nothing that can unsettle this man_, he thought.

"What do you know about his people? I mean those that the FBI has investigated?" Charlie began the new topic, hoping to learn as much as he could.

"We've got quite a lot about them, thanks to the Bureau. Their leader is man called Yuri and he's the only one who directly linked to Rodajew…"

* * *

When Charlie left the firehouse, once again escorted by Mike and the tall man, whose name was, according to Yuri, Nick, he wondered how it was possible for him to keep straight face during all this almost one hour long talk.

He learned that their group were just poor illegal immigrants from Eastern Europe. _Poor, right_. He was asked to pull off a really simple scam, even a beginner would manage it, and they wanted to pay him the equivalent of what he would want for breaking the security systems of the most prominent banks and companies. _And they were just simple immigrants?_

The other thing he came to know, was the fact, they weren't Russian, not everyone of them. For instance, there was this quiet boy who stayed in the room with them. He was designated as Chunky's helper, as he was experienced in computers. He accent was definitely different than Yuri's and Charlie, schooled in recognizing the accents by the NSA, suspected that the boy, Marek as they called him, was either Czech, Slovak or Pole. Nonetheless, Charlie was sure of his purpose here – he was meant to observe him and report to Yuri everything he's done._ Let him watch_, he thought, _I'm gonna show you only what I intend to._

When they arrived in front of the bar, he exited the car and carefully headed to his checking point to remove his disguise. Of course he made sure no one was following him.

Then he drove to his home, and when he entered it, it was four a.m. already. He quietly climbed the stairs and finally got to his own bed. He sighed as he was lying down, relaxing for the first time in hours.

He was probably out even before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

_A/N: And? What do you think? I hope you enjoyed this piece of story. I'm hoping it'll grow into nice, long fic with lots of action and some romance... And I have most of it already planned out, so it just waits for my lazy fingers to type it into my laptop. And boy, are they lazy! :D_

_Anyway, if you wanna make my day a whole lot brighter... Review, please!_

_And to be fair: the title of this chapter is a nod to another popular series, points for you to get the connection!  
_


End file.
